Flower Power Trip

by James J Cudney

  “Like pasta sauce?”

  “Not exactly.” I shook my head. I felt a headache coming on.

  “Red wine stains are the hardest to get out. My momma taught me a trick years ago. Hydrogen peroxide with…” she said with unbridled gusto before pausing to remember what she meant to say.

  “No, but I appreciate the tip. Something a bit stickier. Trust me, you'd probably know the costume if I described the stain.” Please don't make me tell you it's blood. No store owner wants to find out someone bled on one of their garments.

  “We could try that approach, but I can't give names out. I respect my customer's privacy. The fuzz don't like it when I talk.” She reached behind her to grab a clipboard. “The law clearly states—”

  “Dot, I need you to work with me here. I understand you have privacy concerns. If we need to have the sheriff ask the questions, I'll get hold of her right now.” I knew that probably wouldn't work, but I had to take a chance Dot wouldn't challenge me. I painfully curled my toes inside my shoes until I felt the seams begin to separate.

  “Don't get your knickers in a twist, boy.” She closed the book and sipped from her cup of herbal tea. “Tell me again. What did this costume look like?”

  Okay, maybe we were getting somewhere finally. I explained what I could from memory. I flipped through the ten pictures Maggie had given me a copy of, but there were none of Sierra in the white nurse's uniform. I described the patch and the shape of the dress, but not until I said it was from the Kill Bill movie did Dot know which one I meant.

  “Yeah! Elle Driver. She's a popular Halloween rental. I've seen that movie five times. Much prefer Uma Thurman's yellow leather and spandex costume, you know what I mean. No foam domes hiding in that chick's costume!” She clicked a button on the keyboard and searched for The Bride costume Uma Thurman had worn. “Here we go.”

  “No, that's not what I want.”

  “Are you sure? It's a great costume. Although, you might not fit in it with those broad shoulders. What size coat do you wear? Forty, Forty-two?” Dot was falling into that category of older women who flirted with me too much. We were also getting nowhere on this midday train to crazy.

  “Let's try this again. White nurse costume. Eye patch. Was it returned with a red stain?” My face must have turned redder than the strawberry stickers on Dot's cheeks.

  “Is that all you needed to know?” She clicked another button on her screen. “You really should've asked that the first time. You need to hang loose a little more, sir.”

  “I'm not a sir! I'm only thirty-two.” I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth and crunched down hard. Dot was doing her best. I needed to have patience. “Did you find it?”

  “Oh, I didn't need to look that one up. It was returned the next day. Cleaned it up quick and sent it back out two days later for another party. Lickety-split!”

  “Did it have a stain?” I asked.

  “I just told you I sent it right back out, sir. Do you think I'd give it to someone else with a stain on it? We're the top costume shop in all of Wharton County. That ain't no way to do business. Definitely no stains on that costume.” She turned to a new customer who'd entered the store. “Be with ya in a jiffy, hon. Almost done teaching this young kid how we operate around here.”

  This was useless. Could the killer have worn the lab coat to protect their costume from getting blood on it? That would mean it was premeditated murder, but April thought this crime happened unexpectedly. No one would choose to murder somebody in a place with a huge crowd. I needed to have Sheriff Montague question Dot, maybe put a little fear into her so we'd get better answers. “I was kinda hoping you told me that costume had a stain on it. It would have made my life a lot easier.”

  “I'm not rightly sure why you want a stained nurse costume, but to each his own.” She smacked her hand on the counter and laughed. “My ex-husband used to tell me people were fickle when—”

  “Thank you for your help.” Maybe Nana D would've gotten the answer instead of me. These two would have gotten along famously.

  “You're welcome. That costume extravaganza made this month our best sales record in a while. Peace out!” She smiled at me and left the counter holding two fingers in a V-shape as we walked to the front door.

  “I'm glad you're doing so well,” I said, finally remembering my manners. I'd only been distracted by my desire to find a murderer. Definitely not important. I slapped my head and began to leave.

  “Yesiree. And we only had one item that never got returned. That was quite a shame, too. Had to keep the deposit. It was a costume we'd just started selling on the one-hundredth anniversary of the person's death.” Dot yelled back to the other patron that she'd be right with her.

  “Why didn't the customer return it?” It was a long shot, but Dot might surprise me.

  “The renter told me the costume just vanished. I don't know how a costume gets up and splits on its own, but at least I got my money to buy a new one.” She pulled the door open and waved as I stepped through the threshold.

  “Wait, Dot, can you tell me the customer's name?” Please let this be the lead I need.

  “Didn't you hear me earlier? I got to keep customer data private. The fuzz man, the fuzz!”

  “Right, you mentioned that,” I growled.

  “But I'm sure there's no harm in showing you a picture of the costume, right?” She winked and waved me back in. “I kinda like you. It'd be a shame to send away an unhappy handsome customer.”

  She brought me back inside the store and flipped through a few screens on her computer. When she stopped on the one she wanted to show me, she cheered. “Great Mother Earth! I found it.”

  I gaped at the screen in complete disbelief. I knew who'd worn that costume, but I couldn't make heads or tails of why the person would kill George Braun or Hans Mück. “Thank you, Dot. You've just made me a very curious man.” Maybe it was a coincidence?

  * * *

  As soon as I got back in the SUV, I called my brother. Gabriel picked up on the second ring. “Hey, great news! Millard hired me to help him with the rest of the flower exhibit and wants me to come work for him on the landscaping over at the Paddington estate.”

  “That's awesome. I can't wait to hear all about it. I need to ask you an important question.” I wasn't sure if he'd remember, but I had to give it a shot.

  “Sure, go ahead. We can chat later about my new job.”

  I loaded up the ten photos Maggie had shared with me. “You told me you briefly met the other person who interviewed for the job with George Braun. I know Cheney was hoping to do the cabin renovation, but it was someone different who wanted to work on the flower exhibit, right?”

  “Yeah. George said the other candidate was very annoying and had ulterior motives.”

  I texted Gabriel all the photos. “Are any of these the person who interviewed with George?”

  Gabriel took a few seconds to respond. “It's hard to be certain with that costume, but I think it's that first photo. I only got a brief glimpse when I left the interview at who talked with George next.”

  “One more question. Did George ever say anything about having a wife?” I'd never thought to ask Gabriel that question when he told me about his work with the man.

  “He shared very little about his personal life, but he did mention being married at one point. Are you going somewhere with this, Kellan? I'm not sure I understand all the questions.”

  “I'll explain everything later. Did he say his wife's name or what happened to her?” Things were coming together, but I had a couple of pieces that didn't quite fit into the puzzle.

  “You know, I'm sure he mentioned she passed away a little while ago. Never got her name.”

  I hung up with Gabriel after telling him I might need his help with something else. What a fool I'd been! The answer was right in front of me the whole time. I needed to find the proof. The culprit was extraordinarily clever and had built an elaborate ruse to provide the perfect alibi. There was onl
y one other person who might be able to bang the final nail into the coffin. Time to make another phone call!

  Chapter 20

  “Hi, brilliant one. Did you need me to pick up Emma today? You were supposed to let me know earlier,” Nana D said.

  “Yes, that's exactly why I was calling. Well, that and another reason too.”

  “Sure, I'll get Emma when she's done with school. What else can I do to help?” Nana D was hands-down the best grandmother in the world. I could count on her at the last minute for almost anything. I asked Nana D to put my aunt on the phone.

  When she picked up, she said, “Hello, Kellan. What's going on?”

  “Aunt Deirdre, I have a weird question for you. But first, how's your finger?”

  “Those are the best kind of questions, sweetheart,” she said with a boisterous laugh. “It's healing, thanks to your quick thinking.”

  “Great! Now for the odd question. When did Lissette Nutberry find out her sister, Judy, died?” I knew something was off with the timing but needed to prove it.

  “A couple of days before we flew home, I don't remember the exact time. Is it important?”

  “Not the specific time. Are you sure Judy Nutberry only died a few days ago?”

  “That's what Lissette told me. It's why I rushed back here with her. I wasn't planning to come for a visit until next month. It's changed all my plans and nearly ruined the surprise I have for all of you.”

  Surprise? I couldn't get distracted right now. “Where was she before she met you in London?”

  “Switzerland, I'm sure about that. I waited with her at customs and immigration when we arrived in the States,” Aunt Deirdre replied. “I also noticed her passport stamp.”

  “I knew it. There's a connection between her and George Braun.” What was their relationship?

  “It was odd. I didn't go up to the booth with her since we're not family. I thought I heard the man behind the counter ask Lissette if she often traveled to Switzerland for work. Apparently, she'd already been in and out of the country a few times this year.”

  Bingo! Lissette had claimed not to know where her sister was living. She lied. “Thank you. You're the best aunt in the world. Do me a favor, don't tell her about this conversation. It's important.”

  “Okay, but I'm heading over to the college campus to meet her for the opening of the Mendel flower show today. I hope I don't forget and accidentally say something, Kellan. You know me, I get caught up in my book ideas and next thing I know, I prattle on—”

  “Please stay home today. I think something terrible has happened.” I hung up the phone after extracting a promise from my aunt that she'd keep her lips zipped or fake a stroke if she couldn't stop herself from babbling.

  I had to try reaching the sheriff again. After Officer Flatman transferred me, April picked up the phone. “You are pushing your luck, Little Ayrwick. I am trying to solve a murder case and couldn't call you back until this afternoon.”

  “I think I've unintentionally solved it for you, April.” I covered everything I'd learned including my discussion with Dot at the costume shop, my conversations with Gabriel and Aunt Deirdre, and the photographs from the library's extravaganza.

  “I've been busy myself. I have confirmation on the exact date George's wife passed away. According to the death certificate, Judy Nutberry Braun died of heart failure four weeks ago,” April confirmed. “Given what you just told me, Lissette is lying about discovering her sister died only last week. Why would she do that?”

  “I have my suspicions, but only Lissette will be able to tell us the truth. I have an idea how to force it out of her. How much do you trust me?”

  * * *

  Maggie and I had just hung up our call when I arrived at Braxton. Helena had been granted bail, and her parents were paying the necessary ten percent to get her released. After the paperwork was processed, Ben and Lucy Roarke would escort Helena home to shower and get some uninterrupted sleep. Maggie knew Helena would rush off to find Cheney but couldn't stop her sister from doing what her heart told her to do. Maggie wouldn't attend the flower show as she needed to get back to Memorial Library after being absent most of the morning waiting at the courthouse for answers.

  The Mendel flower show was held in Cambridge Hall of Sciences on North Campus. Tomorrow was the official opening day of the show, but today there was an invitation-only preview for a select group of Wharton County citizens. Millard Paddington wanted to offer an opportunity to Braxton administration, faculty, and students to attend for free without a massive crowd standing in their way.

  Simply Stoddard, Karen's event management company, had handled most of the coordination for the public and press while Millard worked behind the scenes with the botanists and scientists who would be sharing some of their recent research. Gabriel agreed to assist in the back offices even though he was concerned someone might discover his return to Braxton sooner than he preferred. I couldn't tell anyone about the plan to force a confession from Lissette Nutberry, but I required Gabriel's and Karen's help to be successful.

  “Kellan, I don't understand why you need to present at today's opening ceremony. Why wasn't I told about this sooner?” Karen asked. We stood in a lecture hall on the second floor of the building preparing the opening address before it was time to allow folks into the show.

  “Millard asked me to say a few words to everyone. I won't take too long.” Millard had no idea what I wanted to say, but he trusted me and knew I wouldn't have asked him unless I had a solid reason.

  After Millard's opening remarks at the ribbon-cutting ceremony, he'd introduce me to those who'd gathered in the main hall. He'd already confirmed with Lissette that she planned to attend given how much she loved flowers and had helped him with a few details before my brother was rehired. I prepared a succinct memorial, a eulogy of sorts, for the late George Braun. I had a few key messages to convey. If everything went according to plan, Lissette wouldn't be able to resist herself.

  “That's fine, but you have five minutes. Seven, tops. Everything's been coordinated down to the smallest of details,” Karen advised me as if I'd asked her to rearrange the whole schedule. “You might think I'm an awful person for lying about the explosion and the identity of Cheney's real father, but I'm determined to make this event a success.”

  I told Karen I found her previous actions difficult to accept and that she should apologize to Ursula for everything that had happened. “Cheney is her nephew. She lost her brother and has no family left. Maybe she won't want to reveal her true identity to the world, but I'm certain she won't ignore a blood relation.”

  Karen shuffled to the main hall to verify everything was ready. I instructed Gabriel on what I needed him to create for me. Then, I called April to verify her team was in place.

  “I've got two undercover officers at the front entrance and a couple more stationed throughout the main floor. She has two possible exits, and we'll stop her whichever route she takes,” April confirmed. She hadn't been comfortable with my proposal, but the evidence she'd collected to date wasn't enough to arrest Lissette. “We have a fifty-fifty chance of getting her to react today. Be careful you don't ruin any opportunity I have in the future of getting her full confession.”

  “I understand.” As we hung up, I kept repeating the same lines to convince myself our plan would work. I didn't want to shock Ursula and Myriam at the opening ceremony, so I shared the gist of my strategy. They fully supported the approach and would watch for reactions from the room. I hadn't told them we suspected Lissette of killing Ursula's brother, but both knew I was focused on the mysterious wife whom Ursula's brother had left behind.

  I found Millard in one of the nearby offices and walked with him to the main hall. Millard waved to Lissette who was chatting with Fern Terry. I wasn't comfortable with the idea of a good friend standing so close to a possible killer, but there was little to be done. About two hundred Braxton College employees and Wharton County citizens had gathered outside the doors b
rimming with excitement over seeing all the elegant flowers, lush foliage, and brilliant research conducted in the past year. Beyond those doors on the other side of the room was the first exhibit, George's personal unfinished research, on extracting vascular and epidermal tissue from certain flowers to cure diseases.

  At the front of the room was a stage raised three feet off the floor. Lined up on either side of the podium was a bevy of pots of various shapes and sizes filled with robust colors and species of flowers. There were common ones most people were familiar with such as roses, tulips, daisies, and lilies, but there were also strange and rare species such as the Kadupul flower from Sri Lanka and candy cane sorrel from South Africa. The marvel of beauty in front of us was intimidating. Was George Braun on the precipice of a major discovery before he died? Would his death be in vain?

  As Millard took to the podium, Karen sidled up next to me. “Gabriel says your slides are loaded. All you need to do is click the top button, and they will appear. Don't cause me any delays!”

  If it had been someone kinder and more honest, I would've felt worse about causing a big scene at Karen's second major event for Braxton. She skirted by the first disaster with George Braun's death in the library, but if we arrested the killer at the second event her company had handled, Simply Stoddard might earn an unfortunate reputation. Or worse yet, bad reviews on Yelp!

  Millard introduced himself to the crowd explaining how his love of flowers had blossomed at an early age. He spoke about what'd initiated his involvement in the Mendel flower show while traveling in Europe. He shared some highlights they could expect in this year's exhibitions and experimental findings, then introduced me by noting I had a special presentation before everyone entered the show.